But then I blew up my life, the love portion of it anyway. In the months that followed, the months when I was revising and editing and revising and editing, all the while questioning how I could have possibly let her get away, wondering if I’d made the biggest mistake of my life, I somehow convinced my editor that the original ending didn’t really work. It was unrealistic, really, for these two people to overcome the barriers separating them. It was an ending I no longer felt I could support, and so, despite an HEA being one of the defining tenets of the romance genre, I changed it.
And since that fateful moment, none of my books have ended with a happily ever after. I always find a way for things to not work out in the end, either because of a tragedy like cancer (that one scored me my first movie deal) or because my characters make simply tragic choices. While most of the romance readers love me and my books and have accepted my stories for what they are, the other authors, not so much.
Before too long, an assistant comes to get me, leading me to the wings of the stage while the rest of the partygoers find their seats. Servers circulate through the room, pouring champagne and refilling wine. With an hour of cocktails already under their belts, the guests are loud, the chatter competing with the jazzy holiday tunes playing in the background.
“Do you know if Jessica Carrington has arrived yet?” Iask the twentysomething woman who is guiding me up a small set of stairs and behind the curtain onstage. “She’s supposed to be introducing me.”
“I’m not sure. But we’ll make sure she’s here in time.” The woman points me to a small, dark corner of the stage. “You can just wait here until you hear your cue.”
No one has told me what my cue will be, or who will be delivering it, since it’s easy to see Jess is nowhere to be found. I see the vice president of SVP across the stage, in the opposite wings. He gives me a smile and a cheerful wave, which I half-heartedly return.
How is it going to look to all of these execs if Jess doesn’t bother to show up? She better have a good excuse for bailing.
Like being stranded in the snowy woods all by herself with no cell service.
I grimace, attempting to relax my facial muscles. I should have grabbed a drink before coming back here, but I wanted to make sure I was sharp for my big acceptance speech.
“Where the hell are you, Jess?” I mumble, checking my watch once again.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I’m so late, I’m sorry.” She arrives in a whirlwind, like she was trapped in a snow globe and only just managed to escape.
My whole body tenses, every inch of me on sudden high alert. The panicked fluster has made her voice go all breathy, and it licks up my spine.
She’s here.
Jess, accompanied by another assistant, crowds into the tiny space afforded to us in the wings.
Holy fuck, she is everywhere. I lock my eyes on the other side of the stage, sure that it will only take one glance at her to send me into a total tailspin. I try to breathe through my mouth so the familiar winter jasmine scent of her doesn’t overwhelm me.
She shimmies out of her coat, her elbows bumping me, the fabric skimming over my arm before she places it in the assistant’s outreached hand. “Thank you so much. I apologize again for my tardiness. I’m never late, but getting here was an absolute nightmare.”
My eyes are unable to stay away from her a moment longer.
She looks incredible. Beyond incredible. She’s wearing a short red dress, the fabric clinging to her curves, accentuating the dip of her waist and hugging the swell of her hips. I don’t allow myself to linger on the neckline, the way her breasts are practically spilling over the fabric, because I know it won’t be long before I have to walk out on that stage and the last thing I need is for every one of my bosses to see just how Jess affects me.
I start listing baseball statistics in my mind, but I was never a big fan of baseball and nothing short of Santa tap-dancing across the stage with the reindeers as backup is going to let me focus on anything other than the fact that she’s here, right by my side.
After a minute, she finally looks at me, hands at her side. “Nick.”
It’s the first thing she’s said to me in five years. Just my name, uttered without a lick of emotion. And yet it sends a shiver through me that I have to work to hide.
“Jess.”
The assistant steps before us, a smile on her face. “Ohmygod, Nick and Jess. How freaking cute is that? I loveNew Girl.”
I purse my lips so they don’t curl into a smile. We used to get that a lot. Something tells me Jess isn’t exactly in the mood to reminisce about the good old days and the comparison to one of the best couples in TV history.
“Show starts in about two minutes. You guys will be on right after the VP. He’ll introduce Jessica. Jessica, you’ll introduce Nick. Once you’re finished, you’ll exit back to the wings and someone will take you to your seats.”
“Thank you.” I nod to the assistant, who scampers off. I wonder if she picked up on the tension, if it’s as clear to everyone else as it is to me that Jess would rather be anywhere but here. I wait for her to say something, anything, but it’s clear she doesn’t have anything to say to me. Which is fair, I suppose. I don’t know why I thought a few snarky DMs might mean she was willing to give me a chance to at least explain, but clearly I read the situation wrong.
Jessica Carrington still feels nothing for me but utter disdain.
First Christmas
Jess
“Isn’t it just the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” I stare up at the massive tree, the lights sparkling, the ginormous shiny ornaments reflecting back the scene of holiday perfection that surrounds us. When Nick doesn’t immediately answer with an awed affirmative, I turn my head, excited to watch him take in the magic.
